On hiring a maid

When I was in high school, one of my friends was the son of the richest man in town (town = approximately 2500 people). My friend lived in a big, new house on top of a hill near the edge of town. A major indication that his family was affluent? They actually hired someone to clean their house for them! This was a totally foreign concept to me; before I met this friend, I had never known anyone with a maid.*

And now I have a maid. Hafida has been working for me for several weeks now. Before coming to Ifrane, I had read that many people hire maids to do laundry, clean, cook, shop, etc. Hiring nannies is also a common practice. But the idea still seemed a little silly to me. I wondered, why in the world would I not be able to do these things myself? And I hated the ideas of inequality, servitude and privilege that the word "maid" conjured up in me.

However, it was pointed out to me several times by several different people that earnings that would put my husband and me below the poverty line in the U.S. could afford us quite a comfortable life in Morocco. T's income is several times that of the average Moroccan's income. Do we not have a social responsibility to try to find ways to share our money with the locals? Most of us don't feel inclined to start walking around and handing out money to strangers on the street. But if we can hire a local woman, and if the money we pay can help her buy groceries or medicine for her sick husband or whatever, do we not have a responsibility to hire her?

Also, as I have pointed out before, I really hate doing laundry. :)

So now Hafida comes for three hours on Mondays and two hours on Thursdays. For this (and please don't think me a bad person when I tell you this), I pay her the equivalent of about $15.

At first, even though I was okay with the idea of hiring someone, having her in the house and asking her to do things made me nervous. At one point I found myself helping her make the bed. I just wasn't getting this whole maid thing.

I figured out that it's best if I just write her a list (Did I mention that she speaks some English? Along with Berber, Darija, and French? And she probably didn't go to high school!) and then either leave the apartment or lock myself in my office where I won't be tempted to micromanage. For the most part, she does a great job. Yesterday, one of the items on the list I gave her was "cook lubbiya" ("lubbiya" means "beans," but it's often used to refer to a dish of seasoned white beans). She found what she needed in the kitchen and made us a big pot of delicious lubbiya. T went back for seconds; he never does that when I make lubbiya!

I really appreciate Hafida's help, especially since my course load this semester is so much more difficult than last semester. But that doesn't mean I'm entirely comfortable with the situation. Whenever she's here, and even when she isn't, I find myself trying to imagine what her life is like. I wonder what she thinks my life is like. I wonder how I can justify spending more money on one night in a nice hotel than she earns working for several months. I think about her six-year-old son, who is in school. What will he do when he grows up? What are her dreams for him? What are her dreams for herself?

Maybe someday I will be comfortable enough with Hafida to ask her some of these questions. Insha'Allah.



*If the word "maid" makes you uncomfortable, you aren't alone. That word has connotations that make me cringe. But it's the term that is conventionally used here in Morocco, and in some ways, it accurately reflects the work that such women do. "Cleaning lady," "house cleaner," and "housekeeper" don't entirely reflect the scope of their work nor the class inequality that generally exists between them and their employers. Now I'll bet you're even more uncomfortable.